


Profit.

by PletroMaximoff



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 22:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4643091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PletroMaximoff/pseuds/PletroMaximoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I think the tags speak for themselves with this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Profit.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations for the russian are in the chapter notes at the end!

“You’re slacking.” Vladimir spits out at you as you’re clicking shut his office door behind you.

You turn around to face him, an incredulous look on your face.

“ _Excuse_  me?”

* * *

 

He’s sat at his desk, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair in disarray from where he’s been running his hands through it, and a glare on his face.

“You heard me.” He rolls his eyes, palms braced on the desk as he stands up. “Your half of the profits are down.”

“I’m aware. Half of the shipment was missing, what the hell did you expect? We can’t bump prices, or the customers will jump ship to other de-.”

“What do you even do?” He interrupts, walking around the desk, and you’re instantly on guard.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You snarl, eyebrow raised and arms folded.

“What do you even do? You’re supposed to be our лейтенант, yet you can’t even bring in your portion of the profit.”

“I have my uses.” You reply coolly, stepping forward and squaring up to him.

He takes a step towards you, and you’re toe to toe now, your folded arms brushing against his chest slightly he’s so close.

“Da? Why don’t you make yourself useful right now, Куколка?” Vladimir sneers, stepping closer and towering over you, grabbing at his crotch. “Get on your knees and put Daddy’s cock in your mouth. There’s a good girl.”

The noise of your palm hitting the side of his face echoes around the room with a brutal  _crack_. His face slams to the side, and you both freeze as you realise what you’ve done.

He turns his head slowly back to face you, an unreadable expression spread across his features.

It’s you who moves first, anger coursing through your veins as you slap at his chest hard, shoving him back, your hand curled up like a cat’s as you attempt to scratch at his face in sheer desperation. He’s quicker than you though, and bigger, and suddenly you’re writhing in his grip, lashing out throwing punches at any part of his torso that can reach.

“Stop!” He demands, trying to grab hold of you, swearing in Russian when your foot catches at his shin bone hard.

He growls and grabs at both of your wrists and you stop for a second. You stare at him, both of you panting heavily, before you wind your neck back, ready to smash your forehead against his. He’s quicker than you are though, using his grip on your wrists to spin you around and into his arms, holding your back solidly against your chest.

“Stop.” He repeats, his voice softer, and sounding more exasperated than angry.

You splay your palms out flat and try to throw yourself forward, taking him with you, but his grip is too tight and he’s much heavier than you, making the manoeuvre impossible.

You struggle hard against his grip as he marches forward in the office, pushing you down in an attempt to stop your flurry of punches. You let out a yelp as you lurch forwards, and he follows, his grip still tight on you.

You both freeze as you realise the position you’re in. Your hair is wound around his hand where it’s gripping at the back of your neck, and his hips pressed flush against you where he’s bent you over the back of the sofa.

“Vlad…” You whisper, staring at the worn leather of the seat beneath you, one hand pressed against the cushions in an attempt to steady yourself.

“Shut up.” He snarls, but he doesn’t move an inch.

You kick out at him and he crowds you further against the sofa.

 _“_ I said  _stop._ ” He hisses.

“I don’t have to fucking listen to you.” You snap, pushing back against him. “I’m your lieutenant, not a goddamn lackey.”

He lets out a breath, his hand curling around the curve of your hip, and the atmosphere changes instantly.

You inhale sharply as his hand touches the back of your thigh, sliding upwards. 

“Let’s not pretend that’s the reason I haven’t hit you back.”

You bite your lip as he runs his hand over your ass, bunching your skirt up as he goes, before flipping it over and exposing your underwear to him.

“Pretty.” He chuckles, fingering at the edge of the lace barely covering your ass cheek, pushing it upwards to expose more skin. “Pretty like you.”

He slides two fingers over the soft white cotton, pressing against your heated core, making you whimper.

His hand smacks down hard on your ass, making you jolt forwards with a hiss.

“Did I say you could make a sound?” He hisses, tugging at your hair slightly.

“No.” You reply through clenched teeth.

“No-what?” He prompts, hand gripping at your ass cheek.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s asking for, what he wants you to call him, and when you do you’re pushing back against him, wriggling against the leather of the sofa.

“Fuck you, Vladimir!” You hiss, stamping on his foot, throwing your head back hoping to catch his chin with it.

His hand smacks down on your ass again and you jolt forwards, ready to roll your eyes. Except that he doesn’t stop. Blow after blow rains down on your bare ass and you wriggle against the sofa. He tuts at you, bringing his hand down and spanking at your pussy, making you cry out.

“Need to be taught a  _lesson,_ принцесса.” He growls, fingers tightening in your hair, your upper body curving as you’re pulled backwards slightly. “Always so  _insolent._ ”

“What lesson is that?” You snarl, trying to twist your head around to look at him. “You want me to call you Sir? Or maybe even Daddy?”

He brings his hand down again, the smack reverberating around the room. You hiss, trying to throw yourself forwards over the sofa, but he steps forward, pinning you fully against the back of the piece of furniture.

“Ohh.” You gasp out softly, trailing off into a moan as he presses his crotch against your ass, his arousal evident as the rough denim of his jeans scratches like a burn at your tender skin.

He runs a hand gently over your ass, and it’s a stark contrast to his previous actions. You let out a pained whine and he shushes you soothingly, stroking his thumb over the curve of your hip.

“Pretty like a принцесса.” He murmurs, fingers pulling your underwear to the side, exposing you to the overheated air of the room.

“чертовский, you’re dripping and I’ve hardly touched you.” He sniggers, running his fingers through your folds, and you feel your cheeks flush. “Do I get you that excited? You like being spanked? Is that why you’re so badly behaved all the time?”

He doesn’t give you time to answer, instead sliding two fingers inside of you. You groan at the sensation, biting your lip in embarrassment as the completely lack of resistance they meet, despite the fact he’s barely even touched you.

“Maybe you need to be taught a lesson more often.” He states, pressing his fingers in deep. You gasp as the heel of his hand rubs against your still stinging skin, balancing on the cusp of pain and pleasure. He unwinds his hand from your hair, and your head drops forward heavily. “Have me remind you of your place, da?”

“And where’s that? What is my place?” You gasp, pushing back against him and his fingers.

“Underneath me.” He replies, and the sound of his zipper going down feels like the loudest thing you’ve ever heard.

There’s a rustle of fabric, and his belt buckle thunks heavily against the floor. You try to twist around, to catch a glimpse of him but he presses a hand into the middle of your shoulderblades, shoving your head back down in a near painful manner.

“What, embarrassed?” You laugh callously, wiggling against him as you stare at the leather beneath you. “Don’t want me to see your tiny dick?”

He growls, pulling at your underwear hard, making you hiss as some of the elastic snags, snapping against your skin, the lace dragging painfully at your legs as he tugs them down.

He presses inside of you with one quick thrust and one of your fingernails pierces into the worn out leather of the couch as you grip down and cry out loudly.

“That feel tiny to you?” He breathes, the smirk evident in his voice.

You don’t say anything, just breathe through your nose harshly as you try to adjust to his size, when he tugs at your hair.

“I asked you a question, Лейтенант.”

“No! No, it doesn’t.” You gasp out, and he lets go of your hair, petting at it soothingly, making you butt back against the touch.

“Yeah?” He laughs, grinding out a gentle rhythm. “What am I?”

“You’re a fucking asshole, that’s what you are.”

You can feel the elastic of your underwear digging into your thighs from where he’s haphazardly dragged them down to, and you try to open your legs wider but you can’t.

“Stop moving.” He growls, and his hand smacks down on your ass hard, making you cry out loudly.

“One of us has to.” You snarl in retaliation. “You call this fucking?”

He pulls out suddenly, making you gasp at the sensation, clenching around air.

You expect him to step away in anger, but he doesn’t. Instead he presses the head of his dick through your folds, teasing gently at your entrance.

“What were you saying?” He murmurs, pressing forward slightly.

“You don’t want to fuck me?” You ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, pride swelling in your chest and just how easily the tables have turned, at how he thinks he’s going to make you beg for it. “Got me bent over all ready for you, and you’ve changed your mind?”

His hips stutter against yours, and he slides forward, the head of his cock bumping against your clit, making you gasp.

“Don’t want to be inside me, where I’m all hot and slick for you?” You croon, pushing your ass backwards. “Don’t you wanna feel me clench tight around you, make me wet inside?”

“C’mon, sweetheart.” And his grip on your hip tightens. “You gonna make me take it? Make me feel you inside of me for  _days.”_

He lets a defeated groan, pushing back inside of you with a solid thrust. You let out a victorious groan of his name and he pets at your side soothingly.

He sets up a brutal pace immediately, and you’re suddenly glad of the sofa as your legs near buckle underneath you.

He’s thick and heavy inside of you, and your hipbones smack into the wooden frame, but you barely notice

“Look at the TV.” He demands suddenly, and you screw your eyes shut, confusion clouding your mind.

His hand swats at your ass, and you moan loudly, clenching down around him.

“Look at it.”

You look up at the darkened screen and realise what he means as you spot your shared reflection.

“Watch us. I want you to watch me fuck you.”

You nod frantically, letting out a choked off whimper as he changes his angle. His hands curl around your hips pulling you backwards to meet his thrusts.

“Look at us.” He grits out. “You look so good like this, always knew you would. So good for me.”

His pace is unfaltering and you can barely catch a breath, his weight heavy behind you and the gentle grip on your side a stark contrast to the way he plows into you unmercilessly. Your arm gives out from underneath you suddenly, making you fall forwards and the change in angle is all you need.

You cry out loudly as you cum, clenching down hot and tight around his cock, fingernails scratching into the leather of the sofa.

He groans deep in his chest as you clench around him, and your name falls from his tongue like a prayer as he stills against you, warmth flooding your insides. He falls forward, draping himself across your back panting heavily, wrapping an arm around you and holding you close.

You relax your hands, sighing heavily, and he rests his forehead against your shoulder blade, pressing small soft kisses there, making you shiver. He stands up again suddenly, pulling out and stepping away from you, pulling his jeans back up as you try to catch your breath.

You wriggle uncomfortably as you feel something against your inner thigh, face flushing when you realise it’s his cum dripping out of you.

You feel his presence behind you before he even touches you, fingers dragging up your leg before pressing deep inside of you. You let out a choked off moan as you realise he’s pushing his cum back inside of you.

“Vl..Vlad.” You gasp standing up straight, reaching behind you to grab at his wrist. He grins against your skin, twisting his fingers and curling them deep inside of you.

You pull at his wrist again with a choked off whimper, and he relents, pulling his fingers out and wiping them on the sofa next to you as you pull your underwear back up. You stare at each other for a moment, and the silence of the room feels like a heavy weight.

“How did you know I wouldn’t kill you?” He murmurs, cupping your chin in his hand. “When you attacked me?”

“Because you hadn’t fucked me yet.” You smirk, biting your lip as you take note at the red mark on the side of his face.

“How do you know I won’t kill you now?” He demands, sliding his hand down to your throat and squeezing.

“Because now you have.”

He grins wolfishly at you before surging forwards, kissing you open mouthed and eager, seating you on the back of the sofa and stepping into the V of your legs.

His arm wraps around your waist, and a hand cups your cheek tilting your face up towards him for a better angle. You trace his bottom lip with your tongue gently and he groans, fisting a hand in your hair, pulling you away. You’re undeterred though, smiling as you press kisses against his face.

“Дорогая…” He murmurs softly as you trace your lips gently over his scar, pressing a firm kiss where it ends just below his eye. You hum quietly in response, ghosting your lips across his cheek and down to his jaw.

“Don’t think..” He trails off with a huff as you press kisses to the column of his throat “Don’t think this gets you special treatment.”

You laugh, scraping your teeth gently along his jawline teasingly.

“Oh, so this is how you treat all your lieutenants? I’m not sure Sergei would be as receptive.”

“I’ll let Anatoly deal with him.”

You snort out a laugh, and he grins, pressing his lips against yours once more.

“Still that need shipment.” You murmur against his lips, hands fisting in his hair.

“Maybe I don’t want to give it to you, пчела.” He nips at your bottom lip, hand sliding up your shirt. “Maybe I like having a reason to punish you.”

You fist your hands into his shirt, letting yourself fall backwards onto the sofa, dragging him with you as he lets out a startled noise as he lands on top of you.

“But wouldn’t rewarding me be  _so_  much better?”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (in order they appear, including repeats):
> 
> Лейтенант – lieutenant.
> 
> Куколка – baby doll.
> 
> Принцесса – princess.
> 
> Чертовский – damn.
> 
> Лейтенант – lieutenant.
> 
> Дорогая - sweetheart
> 
> Пчела – bee/honeybee.


End file.
